Shiver
by highboys
Summary: Shun, Yuuta, and the self-awareness only onsen trips can bring.


**Title:** Shiver  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Kimi to Boku  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Yuuta/Shun  
>For dollyerotica. <p>

* * *

><p>As Shun hesitates at the entryway, Yuuta offers his hand to him. There is no mistaking the expectation in Yuuta's curious gaze; there is little of Shun that Yuuta has not seen, but there are still some delicate parts of Shun that his own confidence has yet to breach. Behind Yuuta, the water in the onsen is calm and deep; it speaks of uncertainty and infinity and Shun wants with the ache of it.<p>

"It's not too hot," says Yuuta, shrugging. Shun looks at the curve of his bare shoulder, unable to meet his stare. There are a lot of things Shun could think of saying, in another place, at another time. The words dry up as quickly as the coolness of Shun's composure.

"That isn't," _what I'm afraid of_, "so bad," Shun finishes, lamely. Yuuta's outstretched hand is near enough to brush against the crook of Shun's arm, and the ghost of his touch heats up the juncture of skin and air; Yuuta cocks his head to the side.

"Well?" Yuuta asks. "Are you still afraid of me?"

"It's not that," says Shun. His voice sounds too small to instill enough confidence in its belief.

"That's good," says Yuuta, blankly. "I'd thought that after I'd seen you naked the first ten times, you'd freak out less."

Shun splutters; he raises his hands to pound against Yuuta's chest, but Yuuta catches his wrists with careful, obliging fingers, always so gentle even at Shun's more selfish moments.

"Hello," says Yuuta. The corner of his eyes crease; his lips twist into a smile. If Shun were younger and more naive, perhaps he would have blushed. Even then, the urge to do so is almost instinctive; his temperature is quick to yield.

"Hello," says Shun, shyly. His heart trembles even as his mouth stills. Yuuta's lips press to his temple, across the swell of his cheek, slides past the faintest indentations of hair across his jaw. There is nothing smooth about Shun, now, because he is not a child. When Yuuta's eyes darken and his teeth stray, Shun feels this difference keenly.

"Won't you come in?" Yuuta says, even as he releases Shun. Shun's body moves to follow him. How strange, that the mind is so clouded and the body remembers.

"No funny stuff," says Shun, hotly. At Yuuta's stifled laughter, he knows he is being mocked. He huffs and steps into the water, prying off the towel with nervous fingers before the water touches the hem; Yuuta's eyes watch, with interest, even as Shun thrusts the cloth to him with the petulance of a little boy.

"Modesty becomes you," says Yuuta, dryly. Shun would answer if the motion of Yuuta's fingers on his own towel did not distract him; he undresses with the finesse of one far more comfortable in his own nudity. Shun finds it a marvel and a source of mortification, at times, and he leans against the rocky edges of the artificial pool, hiding his cheeks behind his crossed arms. If Yuuta were Yuuki, then he would have been less kind to tease. As it is, Yuuta only steps closer to whisper a kiss into Shun's shoulder, his mouth a furnace and his body tense with anticipation. How confident, this boy. How lovely and loved at the same time.

"It's deeper than I thought it would be," Yuuta confesses, after a moment. His arms encircle Shun's chest, pulling him closer.

"It's hot," says Shun, resting the back of his head against Yuuta's shoulder.

"Mhm," says Yuuta, closing his eyes. It is almost unfair to look at his serenity, when Shun's heart rages with emotion, with desire. They have not been in the water for more than a quarter of an hour and already he feels restless, sapped of focused energy. He wants to pull Yuuta closer, to touch the nape of his neck as he steals a kiss, wants to feel friction against his skin as he slides closer and deeper into the spaces of Yuuta's body, his hips, his thighs, the bones and hollows of his legs, insistent and pleading; he wants and he wants and he wants so many things.

The air is made of static and the water is warm and Shun's mouth is dry. His stomach twists. His clenched fingers ache to bury themselves in Yuuta's hair. His skin turns red even as Yuuta draws circles across the base of his belly; at the slightest touch, Shun feels sensitized. Charged.

"_Yuuta_," Shun squeaks. Yuuta pauses, in his worship of Shun's skin. When he pulls away, it is with the reluctance of a devotee.

"Are you dizzy?" Yuuta asks, concerned. Shun wonders how red his face must be, now. How strange he must appear.

"Yes," says Shun. It is not a lie if he omits the origin of it.

"I'll take you back to the room," says Yuuta, rising. Shun concentrates his attention on the mole on Yuuta's thigh, beaded with water. He shuts his eyes and wills the desire to go away.

"I _would_ feel better on a futon," says Shun. His eyes are half-lidded and his lips are parted in an expression that Shun privately thinks makes him look dumb but seems to fill Yuuta with some unexplainable urgency. It works, when Yuuta's breath hitches.

"Ah," says Yuuta, brushing Shun's bangs away from his face. "Was that a suggestion?"

"Well, I suppose it was," says Shun, smiling crookedly. Even now, he has to raise his head to brush his lips past Yuuta's cheek; their shadows join together in a deeper kiss.

As he passes the towel to Shun, Yuuta takes Shun's hand. Beneath his fingers, Yuuta's skin is hot, and it warms him.

The walk back to their room is the longest Shun has ever had in his entire life.


End file.
